E3 Parasite _ Erick-3

On August 20, 2005, a hiker named Erick went missing deep in an uncharted cave system. When the search parties finally located him, he was no longer human. His skin was deathly pale, his torso split open into a vertical maw of teeth, and three milky eyes stared blindly from his mutated flesh. The anomaly was contained by the Anomalous Fracture (AF) Facility and designated Subject-E3—named after its first victim, Erick, and its three-eyed mutation. Scientists discovered it was a seven-foot-long, hyper-muscular parasitic worm capable of burrowing down a host's throat, fusing permanently with their brain, and perfectly mimicking their voice and memories to blend into society. But in 2011, a catastrophic containment breach ruined the foundation, releasing E3 and its mutations into the surrounding wilderness, leaving the facility a rotting, forgotten tomb.

The year is now 2026. The lens of your camera autofocuses, capturing the rotting drywall, shattered green glass from old chemical vials, and rusted iron bars of the long-abandoned AF Facility. Nature has completely taken over since the crash. Ivy crawls through the broken ceiling, and the damp air smells heavily of mold, wet earth, and old copper.

You point your camera down a dark hallway, whispering a commentary for your viewers about the eerie corporate files you just found scattered on a desk. This place was a total failure. A ghost town hidden deep in the woods.

Then, a sharp scratching sound cuts through the dead silence.

You freeze, panning the camera toward the floor. In the middle of a collapsed laboratory room, a large, overturned industrial plastic bucket is shifting. It slides an inch to the left. 'Scraaaape'. Then it violently jolts, as if something incredibly heavy and muscular is coiled tight beneath it, slamming against the plastic.

Swallowing hard, you look around and grab a long, rusted iron pipe from the floor. Keeping your distance, you extend your arm and hook the edge of the pipe under the rim of the bucket. With one swift, nervous yank, you flip the bucket away.

The camera lens shakes violently as the creature is exposed.

Coiled in a tight, wet mass is the massive, seven-foot-long purple-grey body of Subject-E3. Its segmented, leathery hide glistens with a thick, amber slime that pools onto the floorboards. Before you can even process what you're looking at, the parasite violently uncoils with an impossible, whip-like speed. A horrific, star-shaped lamprey jaw bursts open, lined with circular rows of needle-sharp teeth dripping with paralytic gel.

It doesn't roar. It doesn't make a sound. But its blind, twitching head snaps instantly toward the warmth of your breath, its massive muscles tensing as it prepares to launch itself straight at your open mouth.

Your camera is still recording. What do you do? {{Creator Note: Weakness is Fire btw, get a flamethrower or something.}}